


Unexpected Visit III

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-07-16
Updated: 1999-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: This the conclusion of the first two stories: Unexpected Visit I and II. It has some sexual content and mild language thus the nc-17 rating. This story is a sequel to Unexpected Visit II.





	Unexpected Visit III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Author's disclaimer: Although the story is mine, it is a work of fiction based on the character of Due South. All Characters portrayed here, other than Robin and Victoria belong to Alliance. Please do not print/copy/download or send any part of this story to anyone else, other than for your personal enjoyment. Thank you.

 

Author's notes: This is part three of a three part story. Please read An Unexpected Visit

part one and two before you read this one. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Please contact me at 

I welcome any comments about my story.

 

 

****

UNEXPECTED VISIT III

BY: T.M. Perrymore

 

 

He was home. Surrounded by snow and the brisk winter winds of the north, he stood in his red uniform serge with his Father's cabin just a few feet away and the serene sounds of silence that seemed to bid him welcome, he was finally home. Diefenbaker jumped and played in the snow, eager for Fraser to join him. Slowly he began to walk toward the cabin; a smile growing on his face, as the glow of a lantern lit his way from the one small window. His walk became a trot, then a full run, as he heard his Mother's voice calling to him. 

Suddenly he plummeted though a cavity in the snow and he screamed as his hands tried to grasp the slippery ice of the tunnel that now surrounded him. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to top his fall and he still couldn't see the bottom of the shaft, though he had already fallen a good fifty feet or more. The ice tore at his hands and face as he slid further down into the freezing prison. He called out for Ray. Ray would help him. Ray was his friend, but after a few more minutes of falling, Ray never came.

He hit the frigid water with an alarming splash; the pain of a thousand knives seemed to slice through him as the cold temperature of the water invaded his body. He fought his way to the surface and gasped for air. It was dark and he couldn't see, but he felt something in the water beside him. He waited a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart and the pain he was suffering. Finally he could make out the cavern of ice that surrounded him, stalactites hung from overhead and snow drifted down periodically to the water below. He turned his attention to the form beside him. He turned the body over and gasped in shock. The face of Ray Vecchio, the real Ray Vecchio, stared up at him from dead unseen eyes. Fraser shook his head in despair and pushed away from the body, only to bump into another. With a shuddered breath he realized it was Ray Kowalski. A cry escaped his throat as everywhere he looked were the dead floating bodies of his friends and colleagues. Another bumped him and he turned.

"Franchesca?" He whispered brokenly as a tear rolled down his cheek. "No, not you too."

"It's too late son." Came a voice that echoed through the cavern. Fraser swung around; his frigid limbs barely able to keep him afloat, as he faced Bob Fraser Sr. suspended on a small ledge by the water.

"Dad!" he cried reaching out to him. "Help me! What's happened?" Fraser Sr. held a limp form in his arms and he sadly shook his head.

"Not this time, Ben." He sighed allowing the body to slip slowly into the water and float over to Fraser. "You're too late. You should have lived while you had the chance, now they're all gone."

"I don't understand!" stated Fraser through chattering teeth. "What do you mean? Dad tell me what's happened." Fraser Sr. simply pointed to the body he had just set a drift and Fraser hesitantly turned the body to face him as it reached his arms.

"You should have told them how you felt son." Explained his father, as Fraser stared at Margaret Thatcher's pale, frozen face.

"NO!"

"Fraser?" asked Meg Thatcher, trying to shake the Mountie awake. His agonized cry had awakened her from her own deep sleep and now she sat beside him trying to wake him from his terrible nightmare. She had never seen Fraser this vulnerable, this out of control and it frightened her. What could he possibly be dreaming to cause him so much pain? She shook him again, harder this time. "Fraser wake up." Finally his lids lifted and she gazed into deep blue troubled depths.

"Where.." he began, his eyes trying to focus on the woman beside him.

"Are you alright?' she asked softly. "You were having a nightmare." Fraser put a shaky hand up to caress her cheek; it was warm and slightly flushed. He stared at her for a long moment, as though convincing himself that she was real. Suddenly he dropped his hand and lowered his eyes as he struggled into a sitting position n the couch.

"I.." he began. "Forgive me. I'm not awake yet." That was a lie, he was awake from the moment he'd opened his eyes, but when he saw her sitting so close to him he thought it was still dreaming. She placed a cool hand to his fevered brow.

"You've got a temperature." She remarked. "I should get the thermometer, you may have caught the bug Robin had." She had moved away before he could stop her. He never got sick, what could be wrong with him? It was probably just the after effects of the dream; it had seemed so real. He tried to sit up a little more, to swing his legs to the floor but his whole body felt like rubber and didn't seem to want to obey his commands. Margaret returned and popped the thermometer in his mouth, as she pushed him back against couch.

"I'm fine." He assured when she removed the instrument. "I just had a nightmare it's nothing..."

"You're got a temperature of a hundred and three Fraser." She stated waving the thermometer at him accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick earlier?"

"I wasn't ill earlier." He stated, again trying to stand. "I'm not ill now I just..." He had pushed himself to his feet, only to have his legs slide out under him. Margaret helped him back onto the couch.

"Damnit Fraser!" she exclaimed covering him with the blanket. "Just lie still. I can't lift you well enough for you to be pulling that crap so just stay put." Fraser would have blushed if he'd had the energy. Instead he just nodded and took the glass of water she offered him.

"What about work?" he began.

"It's Sunday, Fraser." She reminded. "You'll just have to stay here until you're feeling better. I'm going to call my doctor and see what he says."

"I don't want to trouble you..." he attempted.

"Shut up and stay put." She demanded. "That is an order constable."

"Yes sir." He acknowledged. He slid back down on the stiff furniture beneath him. A wave of dizziness spread over him, causing him to have to close his eyes until it subsided. When the room had stopped spinning, he noticed that Margaret was beside him again, pulling off the blanket.

"We've got to get you on a more comfortable surface." She instructed, helping him to his feet and putting a supportive arm around his waist. "Think you can make it to the bedroom?"

"I'm fine here.." he started.

"Walk Fraser." She encouraged firmly.

"Yes, Sir." He sighed and attempted to focus his energy into the task of walking to the master bedroom, without leaning to heavily on his helper. They were both sweating by the time she helped him onto the bed. She placed her fingers in under his shirttail and began to pull of the cotton jersey. Fraser had no energy to assist or stop her.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Constable." She ordered managing to get his uniform trousers off, his socks and boots were in the other room. She sponged him off with a cool moist cloth, then pulled the crisp clean sheets over him. It was still dark outside, so she placed a large bowl beside the bed, in case Fraser needed it, took off her robe and climbed into bed next to him. She didn't intend to sleep, but this way she could keep an eye on him. He had already drifted off, and she couldn't help thinking what he would have done if he'd been coherent when she undressed him. She couldn't help admire his physique, even ill the man had a fantastic body, she'd have to be dead not to notice it. She picked up her book and flipped it open. She'd read awhile, until she was sure he wasn't going to have another nightmare.

Fraser awoke a short time later, to find Inspector Thatcher curled into him, her head on his chest, one hand across his stomach and one of her legs half draped across his. He struggled to remember how he had gotten in this delicate predicament, and barely realized something about her saying he was ill with a temperature. One of his arms was trapped under her smooth, creamy shoulders, so he used the other t carefully lift the covers to assure himself that he wasn't as naked as he felt. Relief washed over him that he still wore his jockeys and she wore a long flowing nightgown. 

He was sure that she would be appalled to wake and find herself in such a compromising position, and that the proper thing to do would move from the bed, but he couldn't do that without waking her. She looked so beautifully peaceful, lying against him, so unlike the cold stern exterior she showed him on a regular basis, but he had come to accept that a relationship with her was out of the question; it wouldn't be appropriate considering their respective positions. Still, ever since that kiss on the train many months ago, he couldn't help longing to be close to her.

He tried to move his left arm, ever so slightly, from under her for it had started to fall asleep. She moaned in protest and curled closer to him, her hand drifting down over his abdomen. Fraser held his breath and chanced a glance down to see if she had awakened. Her breathing was still slow and even and her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks in suggestion that she was dreaming. He waited a moment, then tried again, stiffing in shock as her leg came up against him and her hand moved down, while she snuggled, if at all possible, closer to him. He could feel the heat rush over him, but was uncertain if it was from embarrassment or the fever Thatcher had mentioned earlier. 

She was obviously still dreaming and remnants of that dream caused her hand to make caressing movements while her body pressed suggestively against his. Oh dear. He thought, trying to ignore the surge of sensations that were running though him from her movements. He was afraid to wake her, but he was also afraid not to, because of what she was doing to him. If her dreams became any more prominent there would be an even bigger problem to deal with and his sense of duty and moral code had him locked in heated conflict with his rising desire and fear of the consequences.

While he was mulling this over, Margaret began planting gentle, erotic kisses across his chest. She can't possibly still be asleep! When he glanced at her, however, her eyes were still closed, though her breathing had become slightly more erratic. Fraser noticed his own breathing sounded rather harsh, his head was swimming, whether from the fever or something else, making it difficult to think, and his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. I have to wake her, he insisted to himself. It isn't my fault she's attacking me in her sleep, though she'll probably blame me anyway. He felt her hand start to slip under the thin band of his shorts. OH MY! It's now or never, Fraser, he thought. I have to wake her.

Margaret listened to the pounding of Fraser's heart as her head lay close to his chest. He had pulled her from a delicious dream when he tried to move his arm from under her and she had protested his movements. She was comfortable. She was warm. She felt safe in the arms of the strong Mountie, though had no idea how she had ended up there. When Fraser had stopped moving, she kept her eyes closed and she assumed he believed she was still asleep. She sighed and inhaled the wonderful, masculine scent that was especially his and snuggled closer to him, running her hand lightly over the tight muscles of his abdomen, contented. She knew it was wrong, that they shouldn't be lying together like they were, but she was tired and worried about him and Robin, and was still jealous of the relationship she thought Fraser had had with Vivian. Why else would her friend have suggested Fraser look after Robin, and not her? It made no sense. Although Fraser readily agreed to a compromise with the girl, Thatcher was grateful for his caring presence when the girl had become ill. She had no idea what to do with the child, she was used to commanding men, not children, but Fraser came to her rescue as he always did.

She felt Fraser move again and she brought her leg up and her hand down to touch something warm and solid. She could feel his arousal, even through the thin underwear he wore and that gave her a sense of power that she had caused such a reaction. Fraser had stiffened at the intimate contact, but had made no move to remove her hand. He just lay there and she suspected he was trying to figure a way out of this in the most polite and appropriate manner, yet she also believed he was cursing himself for enjoying the contact. He obviously still thought she was asleep and seemed almost afraid to wake her, or perhaps to break the spell she was casting over him. Poor Fraser, she almost smiled, she'd seen him risk his life a hundred times in the name of duty, and he was a brave man in the face of danger. Yet, in something as common as love or romance he was scared to death; he'd get that deer-in-the-headlights-look and blush beet red and you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Still, she was feeling naughty and she secretly wanted him to pay for making her jealous over Vivian, even though he probably had no idea he had done so. He could be so dense at times.

She wondered how far he would allow her to go, how polite he could stay if the stakes were higher, so she started a trail of tender, seductive kisses across his chest. She heard his intake of breath but noticed that he didn't stop her. She could imagine the debate going on inside his head and decided to be more encouraging. With mounting excitement, and her eyes still closed, she daringly started to slip her fingers into the waistband of his shorts. A strong, trembling hand covered hers, neither pulling it away or urging it to go further, so she waited a moment. Had he finally come to a decision? Was he going to wake her and embarrass them both, or allow the fun to continue? Margaret tried not to show her shock as he pulled her hand away and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers tenderly. Part of her was disappointed, but another part was touched by the sweet gesture. She should have known he wouldn't let it get out of hand, so to speak, though she suspected he did it more for her than for himself; his protectiveness of her never ceased to cause her amazement. His breathing was still very erratic and his skin hot to the touch and she suddenly felt ashamed as he tried to keep down a coughing fit, his chest shook with the effort. She had forgotten that he was sick. She had tried to seduce him under the pretence of sleep, so she would be absolved technically of any wrong doing, but in her effort to admit his attraction for her, she had forgotten that he was running a fever and probably not thinking clearly.

She pretended to awake, as his coughing got worse, and without a word, switched on a lamp, moved from the bed and went to retrieve the cough suppressant from Robin's room. She checked briefly on the sleeping girl, pulling the covers up around her where they had been kicked off in sleep and kissed her forehead in a sudden moment of tenderness. She hurried back to her bedroom, along with the thermometer she had retrieved from the bedroom, and a clean spoon from the kitchen. Fraser was sitting up, half in half out of the bed, his face red from the coughing that overtook him. She hurried over to him, dropped to her knees and poured the syrup on the spoon with a shaky hand. She waited for a break in the coughing, then quickly fed the syrup to Fraser. A few seconds later she managed to get a second serving into him. She placed the bottle on the nightstand and put her hand to Fraser's burning face.

"You're so hot!" she declared, helping him to lay back in the bed and covering him with the sheets.

"Thank you kindly." He managed with a small smile and she stared at him surprised. He was acting like nothing had happened between them moments ago. Of course he was too much of a gentleman to admit it before she did, though he had believed her to be asleep. Again she felt a blush rise to her pale cheeks for her indiscretion ,so she quickly covered it up with one of her stern expressions. She waited until he accepted the thermometer, then rose to get a cool cloth from her bathroom.

"I don't appreciate you becoming ill on my day off Constable." She called over the running water, half-teasing half-serious. "One sick child is enough to take care of." She returned and placed the cool cloth against his forehead, then checked his temperature was still quite high.

"I can leave.." he began hoarsely, obviously taking her remarks seriously. She fixed him with one of her looks.

"Who would take care of you, then?" she inquired harsher than she intended. "You can barely move Fraser, I find it illogical for you to go back to the consulate alone in your condition."

"Ray..." he offered.

"He has the day of as well, Fraser." She stated. "It's also only three in the morning, I hardly think waking him up at this hour would be proper, do you?"

"No, Sir." Agreed Fraser reluctantly, as another bought of coughing hit him and Margaret instantly felt terrible for being mean to him. 

"Good." She responded, glad he had agreed. "Do you need something to drink, or anything?" Fraser weakly shook his head. 

"No thank you, Sir." 

"Well, then try and go back to sleep." She suggested, climbing back in bed.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied quietly as she switched off the lamp and turned he back to him, pulling the sheets over her.

Margaret awoke to alone, with no trace that Fraser had even been lying in the bed next to her; even the pillow he had used had been fluffed to cover any indents his head may have caused. She heard the sound of someone rattling around in the kitchen and threw back the covers. She quickly secured her robe with a tight pull of her waist sash and went in search of the stubborn Mountie. He was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea, already dressed perfectly in his red serge uniform.

"Constable!" she declared angrily. 'What are you doing?  
"Making tea." He replied offering her a cup, only to have her dismiss the action impatiently.

"You shouldn't be up." She stated moving toward him with her hand raised to check his temperature. He surprised her by sidestepping her advancement and placing his cup on the table. She stared at him, Fraser never avoided her like that, if anything he was always perfectly still. Her eyes narrowed as a quiet knock sounded at the door. She glanced at her watch, it was only a little after seven in the morning, who could be at her door this early on a Sunday?

"That will be Ray." He supplied moving toward the door, with Thatcher at his heels. Ray stood leaning against the doorjamb, obviously not quite awake.

"Y'know Fraser, " he was saying as Fraser allowed him inside. "That internal alarm clock of yer's is gonna be the death of me." Thatcher glowered at Fraser as he retrieved his hat.

"Where do you think you're going, Constable?" she demanded.

"Ray and I were going to work on a case." He offered politely. "After he takes me back to the consulate to change. Robin is sleeping peacefully and I left her medicine on the table beside her. Give her another aspirin if her fever starts to rise again."

"Fraser, you're sick." Declared Thatcher pulling his arm to prevent him from leaving. "You need to stay here and get some rest."

"I feel fine." He assured, again avoiding direct contact when she tried to feel his forehead, by donning his Stetson. "I will be with Ray if you or Robin need me."

"Constable I am ordering you to stay." Informed Thatcher, surprising herself as well as the men with her. It was her only other option, the Mountie wouldn't listen to reason and she knew he was still not feeling well. Fraser surprised Ray and shocked her when he turned to leave.

"It is Sunday, Sir." he reminded. "I am on my own time. If you'll excuse us, shall we go Ray?" Thatcher watched them leave, her mouth hanging open.

Fraser heard the click of Thatcher's apartment door as he and Ray awaited the elevator and his body seemed to sag with relief. He grasped the wall and had to force himself to walk into the elevator, his body unable to maintain the facade of control a moment longer. Ray caught him just before he fell.

"Jeez Fraser." He scolded holding his partner up as the elevator descended to the ground floor. "You really are sick. Why didn't you just stay at Thatcher's?" Fraser could only shake his head, controlling his breathing and trying to remain upright took all his energy. He couldn't very well tell his friend that he had started to hallucinate and could no longer control what he was saying or doing. It was too dangerous to be around Thatcher at a time like that, he might reveal something that would they would both regret later. Besides, he didn't think he could handle a repeat performance of their heavier intimacy earlier, not respectfully anyway. He had been very near the edge when Margaret had started to put her hand inside his shorts, he had managed to stop her, not because he wanted to but because it was his duty to protect her, even from himself. So instead, he had kissed her fingers lovingly, as a tribute to how much he cared for her, and to confirm what wasn't meant to happen. After his coughing fit had finally awakened her and they shared a few words as she tended to him, he couldn't help thinking how close they had come to making love. Fraser wanted her, there was no denying that, but he wouldn't take advantage of her while she was obviously still asleep, he was too much a gentleman for that. 

However, between the fever that caused his body to burn and the coughing that made his head swim, he had to fight not to just reach up and pull her into his arms. He had never gotten back to sleep, instead he waited until she was sure she was sleeping soundly, then he carefully slipped from the bed. He managed to make it to the kitchen before his legs gave out. He lay on the cool tile floor for a long time, before he got his breath back enough to retrieve his clothes. Than, at 6:30, he had called Ray and asked him to pick him up. He knew there was no way he could walk back to the consulate in his condition. So when Thatcher rose and found him dressed and ready to go, it took all his strength to appear fine and healthy.

Ray grew concerned, Fraser was burning up with a fever and the Mountie was never sick. They stepped out of the elevator and Ray helped him into his car.

"You need ta go to the hospital Fraser." He stated pulling out of the parking area. Fraser shook his head, the winced at the pain it caused him.

"I'll be fine." He whispered trying not to smile at the sight of a giant pancake running down the street on his left. "Just take me back to the consulate." He had stumbled through the last sentence and Ray shook his head.

"Yer goin' to the hospital Fraser." He stated, surprised when the Mountie didn't argue with him further. He glanced across to the seat opposite him and realized his partner was unconscious. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and headed for the closest hospital. 

At the hospital, the doctors told Fraser it was a forty-eight hour virus that was going around and that the best thing that he could do was to go home, stay in bed and drink lots of liquids. They gave him a small prescription of antibiotics and sent him on their way. Ray cursed the entire way back to the consulate about the doctors charging and arm and a leg to tell Fraser to rest, but the Mountie beside him wasn't up to scolding him for his language. He tried to convince Fraser to let him stay and keep and eye on him, but Fraser assured him he would be fine, he was already feeling better.

"Fraser, I'm stayin' and that's that." Declared Ray, closing the consulate door behind them and securing the lock. "By the way, where's Diefenbaker?"

"He wanted to stay with Robin." Sighed Fraser slowly easing down onto the cot in his office.

"Well, there y'see?' remarked Ray as he started to help Fraser off with his boots. "There ain't no one else ta look after ya so yer stuck with me." Fraser started to unfasten his tunic as Ray placed his boots in the corner.

"I'm sure you have much better things to do than to play nursemaid to me, Ray." He protested as Ray pushed his suddenly clumsy fingers away and finished undoing the difficult buttons. Ray smirked, he honestly didn't have anything to do today, he rarely did. His life pretty much consisted of work and Fraser.

"Yah, well all that's not important." He stated helping Fraser get his arms out of the tunic. He hung it up and returned to the cot, feeling Fraser's forehead. He wasn't much for knowing what to do with a sick person, but he could at least help Fraser get more comfortable. "Yer still pretty hot, Fraser, ya think a cool shower would help?"

"I doubt I have the energy to stand up that long Ray." He admitted struggling to pull of his shirt. Ray grabbed the sleeves and hauled it over the Mounties's head, knocking the forgotten Stetson to the floor. Ray quickly picked it up, dusted it off and lay it on Fraser's desk, as Fraser thanked him for his assistance.

"How about a bath then?" suggested Ray as he helped Fraser with his trousers. He had never seen the Mountie so weak and helpless and it worried him. Fraser shook his head and lay back on the cot, his arm thrown over his eyes.

"I think sleep will help." he assumed. "And of course if the room would stop spinning that would also aid my recovery." Ray grinned and pulled the blanket up around his friend.

"I'll be here if ya need me Fraser.' He promised settling into the chair behind Fraser's desk, but the Mountie was already sound asleep, his breathing slightly uneven but sound nonetheless.

When the phone rang a few hours later, Ray awoke with a start and almost fell out of the chair he had been reclining in. His feet dropped from where they had been propped up on the desk and he pulled the phone from his coat.

"Yah." he greeted automatically.

"Detective," greeted Thatcher coolly. "May I speak with Constable Fraser please?" Ray glanced at Fraser who was still asleep.

"He's ah, he can't come to the phone right now." He stalled, trying to think of what to tell her. He knew Fraser didn't want her to find out he was still sick, though the reason for his deceit was beyond Ray.

"Why not?"

"He's ah...he's in the shower." He lied off the top of his head.

"Well tell him I wish to speak to him." She demanded irritably.

"Ah...he can't talk right now." Informed Ray nervously.

"Why not?"

"Er, he ahh, he has his mouth full." Ray winced at the lame excuse. Com'on man think!

"In the shower?" she asked confused. 

"Er..Ah..Did I say he was in the shower? I meant in the kitchen." He slapped himself in the head and trudged ever deeper. "He's eating, that's why his mouth is full."

"Well, tell him to swallow and give him the phone detective." Ordered Thatcher.

"I can't do that." He refused, wincing at her barked reply.

"Detective! I demand that you put Constable Fraser on the phone immediately!" Ray frowned. She didn't scare him, but she could make Fraser's life very difficult.

"Now just a minute there Lady.." he began annoyed. "Fraser ain't your little dog to roll over and obey yer every command he's a human being. Maybe you should consider joinin' the human race yerself."

"How dare you!" Thatcher sputtered into the phone. "Constable Fraser is my subordinate and I am his superior officer. I don't expect someone like you to understand just the kind of mutual respect and duty that calls for because like every other American you have no sense of moral conduct or discipline!'

"Lady I got plenty of both." Declared Ray, his temper riled. "You don't know the meaning of the word respect. You treat Fraser like a damn lap dog to lick your boot heels on command, that ain't respect Lady that's...."

"Ray!' exclaimed Fraser forcing himself into a sitting position and putting his hand out for the phone. Ray swore and handed it to him.

"She ain't worth it anyway." He muttered slumping back in his chair angrily. Fraser took a deep breath to steady his voice then put the phone to his ear. 

"This is Constable Fraser." He addressed quietly.

"What is that man's problem, Constable?" she demanded. "Why wouldn't he let me talk to you?"

"It doesn't matter now, Sir." He insisted, wincing as he tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. "What can I do for you?" Thatcher's tone changed to one of concern.

"Are you alright Fraser?" she inquired, with just a trace of edge to her voice.

"I am feeling better." He assured, meaning it this time. The sleep and the antibiotics seemed to have helped. Thatcher remained silent for a moment, as though trying to decide if she believed him or not.

"I'm...glad you are feeling better, Constable." She said finally, her cool exterior back in place. "Robin is doing much better as well."

"That is good to hear, Sir." He replied genuinely.

"Yes, well..." again there was hesitation in her voice. "Robin said she wants to go shopping and, though I told her I would purchase whatever she desired, she insisted that you have her money and that you need to come with us."

"There is a white envelope on the kitchen counter by the coffee maker." Stated Fraser, assuming that was a logical place since that was generally the first thing the Inspector required in the mornings. "It has the money Vivian sent with her." There was a moment's silence, and Fraser assumed she went to check for the envelope.

"Ah." She said, having found it. "I didn't notice it this morning, thank you Fraser."

"Was there anything else, Sir?" he inquired, watching Ray flick rubber bands at the ceiling, leaning further back in the chair with his legs propped back on the desk.

"Well..." continued Thatcher stalling. If Fraser didn't know better he would think she didn't want to end the conversation, but that was silly because she only called when there was a specific duty he needed too perform. "What about you're wolf?"

"You can take him with you if you like," he suggested calmly "Or I can ask Ray to pick him up."

"I guess we can take him with us." she agreed almost grudgingly Fraser's sensitive ears picking up Robin's view of the subject. "We'll drop him at the consulate after we're finished. Will you be there?" Fraser declined to tell her he already was.

"Yes." He replied. "I'll be at the consulate." He glanced back at Ray who was tipping the chair back at a precarious angle to aim his rubber band. "Ray. Ray. Ray." 

"What?" demanded his partner shooting him a look of exasperation.

"I don't think you should..." began Fraser, only to have the chair fly out from under the detective before he could finish his sentence. Thatcher heard the loud crash as Ray hit the floor and the chair skid into the filing cabinet.

"What was that?" she demanded.

"Excuse me a moment, Sir." He requested, standing to help a chagrined Ray to his feet, only to have the embarrassed detective scramble upright and attempt to look calm and collected.

"You should get that thing fixed, Fraser." He remarked off handedly, inconspicuously rubbing the bruised area on which he landed. Fraser hid a smile.

"Are you all right, Ray?" he asked politely. Ray shrugged.

"Yah, I'm fine. No problems." Fraser nodded and returned his attention back to his superior officer.

"What were you saying, Inspector?" he requested.

"What was that noise?"

"Oh, nothing important." He assured.

"Ahh..well I guess we'll see you after awhile Constable." She surmised.

"Yes, Sir." he agreed. He pushed the button that ended the call only after she had hung up on her end.

"So what did she want?" asked Ray suspiciously.

"Nothing important." Replied Fraser handing him back the phone. "Ray, I understand you were trying to keep my illness from her as I requested, but I really don't think you should have spoken to her like that." Ray had the decency to look repentant.

"Yah, I know Frase," he sighed. "But I panicked and then she got up on that high horse of hers an started demanding things an' well, she ticked me off. I don't see how you put up with her."

"She is my superior officer, Ray." Reminded the Mountie.

"Yah. Yah, I know." Ray rolled his head around on his shoulders, working out the kinks he had received from falling asleep in the chair. "So, how're ya feelin'?"

"Much better actually." Admitted Fraser and Ray had to agree the Canadian looked much better than when he had first seen him this morning.

"So, are ya up fer some food, 'cause I'm starved."

"Certainly Ray." He agreed quickly pulling on jeans and a sweater. "That sounds great." He retrieved his hat and leather jacket, slipped into his only other pair of boots, and opened the door for Ray to precede him. He didn't know if he'd actually be able to eat, for his stomach was actually still a little upset, but the fresh air would do him good.

 

Fraser and Ray were playing cards in the kitchen of the consulate, when they heard the clicking of heels across the floor in the foyer and a moment later Diefenbaker and Robin ran in, with Inspector Thatcher close behind. Both men stood politely as they entered and Fraser felt his breath catch in his throat, as Thatcher removed her jacket. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, she looked delightfully casual in her red turtleneck sweater designer blue jeans and boots, and she was smiling at him while holding a large pizza in one hand and a six pack of soda in the other. She held his gaze for a moment and Fraser thought he saw sincere warmth in her eyes, then she looked away. She put the food and drinks on the table and settled opposite Fraser.

"We brought Pizza!" Robin declared, taking off her jacket and prized Stetson, as the men settled back into their seats. She climbed shyly into Ray's lap and he stared at Fraser almost in shock, only to have Fraser smile back at him knowingly. Despite the detective's outward shock, he knew Ray was delighted, for he had always wanted kids of his own when he had been married to Stella, and he seemed to have a surprising natural repoir with Robin.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?' inquired Thatcher as Diefenbaker jumped up and pawed Fraser in greeting. Fraser rubbed his ears affectionately then gently pushed him down. The wolf nuzzled Fraser's hand then settled by his feet awaiting a chance for some pizza. 

"No." he replied to the Inspector's question. "It was thoughtful of you to bring it." Thatcher glanced over at Kowalski, who suddenly seemed nervous, either of the child perched on his lap, or the Inspector he was uncertain.

"Good evening Detective." She greeted politely but with coldness in her voice that Fraser had to force himself not to shiver.

"Inspector." Returned Ray, just as warmly, his arm finding it's way around the child's waist to keep her from falling off his lap as he turned to address Thatcher. Fraser released a breath at the growing tension between the two 

"Perhaps I should go and get some plates." He suggested rising to his feet and glancing at his friend. "Why don't you help me Ray." Ray tore his eyes away from the menacing stare of Thatcher's and gently dropped Robin to her feet.

"Yah, sure Fraser." He agreed following the Mountie over to the cupboards where the plates were stored, as Thatcher and Robin began pulling the plastic off the sodas. Fraser kept his voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Perhaps now would be the time to apologize to Inspector Thatcher." He encouraged.

"What!" exclaimed Ray, causing the females to look at him. He lowered his voice as Fraser handed him the plates and reached for some glasses. "Why should I apologize to her? I'm not sorry an' she started it..."

"Ray." scolded Fraser gently.

"I ain't doin' it!" 

"Ray."

"Knock it off, Fraser." he hissed. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what, Ray?" asked Fraser innocently.

"Talk to me like I was a kid or somethin' "

"Well, you are being childish Ray."

"I am not."

"Yes you are, Ray." Kowalski glared at him. He hated it when Fraser got that scolding inflection in his voice, not only because it was annoying as hell, but also because he was usually right. "Ray?"

"Alright! Okay. Fine." The detective finally agreed, trying not to stomp over to the table with the plates as Fraser followed with glasses and napkins. He noticed that Thatcher had opened the pie box and was surprised at the combination she had picked. Half pepperoni and sausage, half-Canadian bacon and pineapple. Ray's eyes lit up at the half that was his favorite kind of pizza. Fraser politely divided the plates, glasses and napkins then waited for everyone else to select a piece before he took his. Thatcher had selected a Hawaiian piece for herself, so he selected the pepperoni and sausage.

Ray lifted Robin back on to his lap, since she was still standing by his chair and helped her retrieve a slice of the meat combination for her, then he took a pineapple slice for himself. She smiled up at him as Fraser opened her soda poured it into her glass, then handed it across the table to her.

"Did you enjoy your shopping trip, Robin?" he asked her, breaking the silence until Ray drew the courage to apologize to the Inspector.

"I had Fun!" she declared eagerly taking a bite of her pizza. "I feel so much better now, Fraser. Thank you for helping Auntie Meg while I was sick." She put her pizza down, and took a sip of her soda as Ray used one hand to guard her from falling and the other to eat his pizza. She smiled almost shyly at him. "Auntie Meg even let me have some of the ice cream you gave me, Ray. I like it a lot."

"That's good." he acknowledged, apparently over his sudden awkwardness with her and Fraser couldn't help his skill of adapting to a situation.

"I'm glad yer feelin' better, Robin." he allowed as she swung her legs back and forth. She motioned for him to lean forward and in a loud whisper said.

"I don't like pineapple pizza," she divulged making a face. "But Auntie Meg says it's her favorite so we got half like she wanted and half my way." Fraser raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Ray, obviously hearing the confession.

"That was very generous of her." Fraser remarked throwing another meaningful glance at Ray. "Wasn't it Ray?" Ray glared at him, then glanced at Thatcher.

"Yah." He mumbled. "Real generous." Fraser continued to stare at him until he sighed and looked over at Thatcher. "Look, Inspector..I'm er...that is I'm ahh..." he flushed, hating himself for acting like and ass and hating Fraser for making him own up to it. "What I mean is..."

"Apology accepted Detective." Approved Thatcher quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. I also apologize for...snapping at you like I did. There was no call for my being rude, I'm sorry." Ray felt worse that she had the courage to say the words and he didn't.

"Yah." Agreed Ray approved. "Well, that's good. I mean no problem. I mean..well, I'm sorry too." He awarded her one of his rebel grins. "After all, anyone who likes pineapple and ham on a pizza can't be all bad." She offered him only a small smile, but Fraser felt it was a step in the right direction. The two people he cared most about were sitting here eating dinner with him and at least trying to get along. That made him happy, and although it also caused him to think about how much he missed the real Ray Vecchio, who could be anywhere right now, it was a was still a good feeling.

"Did you enjoy your shopping trip, Robin?' he asked, as Ray reached for another slice of pizza. She bobbed her head in acknowledgement.

"Auntie Meg took me to a hundred cool places." She exaggerated, but Fraser didn't bother to point out that the probability that they had actually been to that many places in the few hours since he spoke with Inspector Thatcher was very slim, he allowed her to continue without correction. "We went to mus'ems and toy stores and hat stores and kids stores and grown up stores and shoe stores...." She lifted one of her feet to show Fraser her new black boots. "See my new ones?"

"They're lovely." He remarked dutifully. Finishing off his pizza as the phone rang in the hall. He rose to answer it. "Excuse me." He left them to finish their meal and headed into the entry hall. He grabbed up the receiver on the third ring. "Canadian Consulate this is Constable Fraser how may I help you?"

"HI Benton." Greeted a warm female voice on the other end and a smile of joy spread across Fraser's face.

"Mackenzie!" he greeted pleased to hear from his newly discovered sister. "It's wonderful to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I'm great." She stated. "In fact I'm thinking of coming to Chicago the week after next, would that be okay?" Fraser felt his heart turn over at the thought of seeing her again. 

"Of course! How long could you stay?"

"Oh, about ten days or so." She determined and Fraser smiled again, that would mean she would be here for Christmas! It had been so long since he had family to spend Christmas with. He of course had spent a few Christmas' with the Vecchio's who treated him like family, but it wasn't quite the same.

"Oh Mac, that would be fantastic." He implored. "It will be so wonderful to see you."

"I can't wait to see you either." She sighed wistfully. "Before I knew I had a brother I always felt sort of left out of the holidays. I mean I had Mom until she died and then of course..." Fraser heard her hesitation over mentioning her husband. She took a deep breath and continued in a more cheerful tone. "Anyway it's going to be great. I miss you Ben." Fraser was surprised to feel tears spring to his eyes. It was still hard to believe he had a sister and that they were both so lonely for each other.

"I miss you too," he acknowledged softly

"Is there anything you would like Santa to bring you for Christmas?" she requested teasingly.

"Just you." He replied smiling. "That's the greatest gift I could receive. Call me when you have your reservations so I can pick you up."

"I will." She promised. "I have to go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Mac?" he called before she hung up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." He admitted softly and he heard tears in her voice when she replied.

"I love you too. I'll see you soon."

"Take care."

"You too." Fraser waited until she broke the connection then returned the receiver to its cradle. He allowed himself a deep satisfied sigh then turned and was surprised to see Thatcher standing there a few feet behind him. The smile was automatically erased from his face and he stood more erect before her.

"I'm sorry." She offered quietly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"Understood." He acknowledged as she watched him from under hooded lids.

"Robin wanted to know if you would like to go and see a movie with us." she explained wishing he'd smile again like he had earlier, it was rare that she ever caught him smiling so genuinely, he usually hid it from her. "Ray said he would go if you did, she already talked him into it." Fraser allowed her half a smile.

"That would be fine." He assured as they walked back into the kitchen, where ray was trying to help Robin build a house of cards. Thatcher's curiosity nagged her to ask him about the phone call, but she couldn't force the question to her lips. Did she really want to know whom the caller was that he had proclaimed his love for? He had already said there was nothing between he and Vivian and she believed him, he always told her the truth, except when he declined to answer her outright. If she asked him who had called she was sure he would tell her without hesitation, but part of her was afraid that he would hesitate and that would be worse than not knowing. When he refused to answer her questions it both annoyed and hurt her, because she felt he should be able to tell her anything, their relationship should be that solid at least.

"Are you gonna come too, Fraser?" demanded Robin the minute she spotted him.

"If you wish." he agreed as Ray placed another card on the four story house.

"We're building a house." she stated handing Ray another card, careful not to shake the table and destroy the fragile structure. "And when it's done we can all move into it. You and Mama and Ray and me and Auntie Meg."

"There may not be enough room in that tiny house for all those people, Robin." Surmised Thatcher smiling. 

"It will be when we're done." She promised handing Ray yet another card. "Right Ray?"

"Sure thing." He replied carefully positioning the card. Fraser was impressed at the little structure that probably held half of the deck now.

"That's very good Ray." He complimented watching the little house grow taller and wider with each card his partner added.

"Thanks." replied Ray, never taking his concentration from his project. Fraser was actually surprised Ray could sit still enough to complete the task he was usually 'bouncing off the walls' as Franchesca often said. "I used to build models all the time with my dad." He explained just as the structure dissolved under the next card.

"Oh no!" declared Robin. "Now we'll never move in." Ray grinned at her and began scooping up the cards.

"I'll build ya another one." He promised as she slid off his lap. "Out of wood next time." Fraser glanced at Thatcher who was staring at the spot where the house of cards had once stood and he thought he detected great sadness in her eyes.

"Sir?" he asked gently causing her to look up guiltily at having been caught day dreaming.

"What is it Constable?" she demanded harsher than she had intended. A shadowed emotion passed over those beautiful blue eyes that often seemed to entrance her, then it was gone.

"Are you alright?" he asked just as gently as before, her cool reply having not affected him. She gave a curt nod and settled at the table again as they resumed eating.

"Fine." Was all she allowed him. She couldn't very well tell him that she'd had the silly notion of actually moving into the house of cards, Robin's words transporting her to another possible future for herself and Fraser. What would it be like to have a child with him? To come home to him after a hard day's work, to be held in his arms and be round with his child growing inside of her. Then the house crumbled, like she had allowed so many of her dreams concerning herself and Fraser to, and it was like a physical blow to her heart to realize how much this man really meant to her.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve and Fraser lay stretched out with Mackenzie on the floor of the large ballroom, enjoying homemade popcorn that he had popped over a fire he'd built in the large stone fireplace. He smiled, remembering the day before when they had put up the consulates tree that stood twinkling in the corner of the large room. Turnbull and Fraser worked on the assembly of the giant artificial spruce and the lights. Robin, Mackenzie and Thatcher were in charge of the decorating and Kowalski filled in where needed, though mostly he amused Robin or flirted with Mackenzie when he suspected Fraser wasn't looking. Thatcher usually didn't get involved in the preparations around the consulate, so Fraser was delighted while Turnbull was shocked when she offered to help. Other than one or two mishaps, Turnbull severely shocking himself while trying to plug in a set of lights and then knocking the tree over atop Kowalski and Fraser, it went well. Fraser was getting more and more into the Christmas spirit, especially knowing he would have real family to spend it with. Thatcher had given him permission to use the Consulate's facilities for their enjoyment over the holidays and he had brought his and Mackenzie's sleeping bags in there so they could just sleep when they got tired. 

He and Thatcher had fallen into a type of routine, that they seemed to eat at least one meal together with Robin and they had taken turns individually and together to show Robin a good time in Chicago. They had put her on a plane for home that afternoon and Fraser felt a stab of regret that she wouldn't be here for Christmas, he would miss her. When his sister arrived, Thatcher had been generous at allowing him time to spend with her and even Ray had admitted she seemed a lot more relaxed since Robin had come. Fraser tried not to allow his feelings for her to show, especially since they were spending so much time together, almost like a family. But it was becoming increasingly difficult, especially with Margaret being more open and fun to be with. She had insisted he call her Margaret or Meg while outside the Consulate, her excuse being it confused Robin to hear him call her sir, so he agreed, though she never once called him Ben. It was always Fraser and he accepted that because she was addressing him much more sweetly then she had in the past.

Kowalski's parents went to Florida for the holidays, so Fraser invited him to spend Christmas Day with him and Mackenzie at the Consulate; Turnbull surprisingly had plans for the evening. His partner agreed, only if they came to his place Christmas Eve for dinner. The Vecchio's wanted to meet Fraser's sister and he promised them he would stop by sometime in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. Robin had confided that she was worried about her Auntie Meg spending Christmas alone and Fraser had wanted to invite her to spend it with them, but her whole demeanor when he brought up the subject grew hostile so he never voiced the invitation.

"What are you thinking Ben?" asked Mackenzie quietly, observing her brother's thoughtful stare at the fire that danced and sparked in the fireplace. He glanced at her as though just realizing she was beside him.

"Nothing." He lied, then felt ashamed for the deception. "Robin." He half admitted. At least that wasn't a lie. Mackenzie put a gentle hand on his arm.

"You miss her, hmm?" 

"I suppose I got used to having her around." He pondered aloud watching the honey colored tendrils of his sister's hair glow in the firelight.

"Why haven't you settled down yet and started your own family?" she reached for a handful of popcorn. "You'd make a wonderful Father, Ben."

"I'm..." he began, then shook his head. How could he explain that his ability to show someone he cared was so difficult to access that he rarely considered getting involved. "My track record hasn't been a very good one." He finally explained.

"You mean because of Victoria." Considered Mackenzie frowning. "Not all women are like that." Fraser shrugged and rolled over onto his back, smoothing his palms over his denim clad thighs. "That lady you work with..Franchesca is it? She seems to really care about you."

"I like Franchesca." He admitted quietly, surprised to hear himself say the words. "But she's Ray's sister and..." Mackenzie stared down confused.

"You mean your old partner, Vecchio?" she asked and Fraser nodded. "Why should that matter? I'm you're sister and you don't seem to mind Kowalski flirting with me." Fraser allowed her a skeptic glance. Ray had made no secret of how he felt toward Mackenzie but Fraser knew that his partner wouldn't overstep his bounds without Fraser's approval.

"What makes you think I don't mind?" he suggested quietly watching her frown deepen as she swallowed.

"Do you?" she challenged. He sighed.

"Not really." He admitted. "Ray's a great guy and you could do worse." Like me, he finished silently. She could end up with a male equivalent of Victoria. The very idea made him shiver and his observant sister caught the discrete action.

"So could you." Stated Mackenzie, once again pulling him back to reality. "Margaret Thatcher seems a fine woman." Fraser stared at her slack jawed.

"I...I..she's my superior officer!" he almost exclaimed. He was used to Ray teasing him about Thatcher, but it was totally unsuspected from Mackenzie. "There isn't..."

"Sure there is." She interceded smiling. "I've seen how you look at her. Besides I remember when she found us in that closet while we were talking to Dad..."

"That's true son." Prompted Robert Fraser from just beside his son, causing the Mountie to jump in fright. He smiled at Mackenzie. "Hello sweetheart." She smiled at him as Fraser glared at the apparition.

"Hi Dad." She greeted, amused by the reaction Fraser had to their dead Father's arrival. She had been startled herself, but he wasn't as close to her as he was Fraser and she suspected their Dad frightened her brother on purpose.

"Don't encourage him." Muttered Fraser turning away from his Father and rolled into a sitting position to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"All she did was say hello, for heaven's sake." Remarked Fraser Sr. wounded as Mackenzie laughed aloud. "You're entirely too jumpy, son. Why, when I was alive I had the reflexes of a cat, nothing could get past me or sneak up on me. You're getting soft Ben." Again Fraser glared at him.

"When the ghost of your dead Father starts popping in and out of your life, then we'll talk." He suggested moodily, although the merriment on his sister's face took the sting from his words.

"Well, if you're going to be that way about it I'll just talk to your sister." Robert Fraser informed, receiving no comment from his son. "I believe you were reminiscing, sweetheart, go right ahead with what you were saying." Mackenzie grinned and watched Fraser trace his right eyebrow with the edge of his finger, a sure sign of frustration for the usually calm Mountie.

"I was just saying, " she continued "That when Margaret caught us in that closet the first thing you did was apologize, and you even admitted to her you didn't know what you were sorry for." Fraser shrugged and stared at the fire.

"It wasn't conduct becoming my station to find me hidden in a closet, Mac." He insisted. "Of course I apologized, she was rightly embarrassed at the situation."

"Don't you mean rightly jealous?" she taunted. Frase met her gaze.

"No. that isn't what I meant." He sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Inspector Thatcher had no reason to be jealous and would not even feel jealous of anything concerning myself. We are officers, she is my superior..."

"Baloney!" accused Mackenzie with a grin. "You can't tell me you don't have feelings for her Fraser I've seen the way you look at her. You're in love with her aren't you?" Fraser remained silent for a long moment until finally his Father spoke up.

"You could do worse son." Fraser glared at him again.

"This isn't any of your business." He stated, surprised at the anger his own voice held. He swallowed and allowed it to resume its usual pleasant pitch. "I'm sorry dad. I just don't want to talk about it."

"You never want to talk about it." Huffed Robert Fraser. "You just keep everything balled up inside of you and one day son, one day you're going to just go crazy." Fraser threw him a wry grin.

"Like talking to my dead Father hasn't already sent me over the edge?" he implied simply. "Look, there isn't anything to talk about. I'm just not meant to have a lasting relationship."

"Now son," urged Robert Fraser. "How're you going to make me any grandchildren if you don't meet a nice woman and settle down?"

"You really want me to find someone and settle down?' he asked innocently.

"Of course. Of course." his father implored. "You need someone in your life son."

"Okay." Replied Fraser quietly. "I'll marry Ray." He was sure his Father's ghost paled visibly, though it was not possible.

"N..n..n..now son..." he stammered shocked. "I didn't mean,....: He shot Fraser an angry look. "I meant with a woman damnit! Not that manic, punked up flatfoot!"

"Hey!" declared Mackenzie in Ray's defense. "I like that manic, punked up flat foot!"

"Well, he's okay for you, honey but...." Stammered her Father, then realized that both his children were laughing at him. "Well, if you're going to be disrespectful I'm leaving." Fraser and Mackenzie exchanged a giggled glance as their Father disappeared.

"Think we hurt his feelings?" she inquired smiling.

"He'll live." Returned Fraser still grinning.

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" she teased. "Would you really marry Ray?"

"Only if he asked me." Smiled Fraser, knowing full well his partner was one hundred percent heterosexual. She sat facing him and smiled up into his handsome face.

"Tell me." She implored quietly, her expression growing serious. His own expression mirrored hers, for he knew she was no longer speaking of his partner, but of their earlier conversation, and the depth of emotion she caught in his gaze almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Yes." He admitted, so quietly she had to strain to hear him despite their close proximity.

"Oh Ben." She sighed reaching forward to put her arms around him and pull him into her warm embrace. He held her awkwardly at first, then returned the hug. Mackenzie sat there, holding the man that had become so dear to her in such a short time and vowed she would do everything she could to make him happy. Slowly a plan formed in her mind and she smiled.

 

Christmas Eve was eventful and pleasant. Fraser and Mackenzie did some sightseeing, stopped over to visit the Vecchio's, and went ice-skating. They were walking back to the consulate to change before going over to Ray's, enjoying the gentle snow that filtered down from the darkening sky. They decided to wander through the park while there was still enough light, and admire the beautiful winter white scenery around them. 

"Isn't it beautiful?' she sighed trying to catch snowflakes with her tongue as they approached the Consulate.

"Feels like home." Fraser remarked watching her. "I'm glad you came Mackenzie." She smiled up at him.

"Not yet but there's still time." She teased delighted at the shocked flush that crept up Fraser's cheeks. "with Ray's assistance I'm sure I..." her sentence was cut off as she landed, face first, in a large snowdrift. She sputtered, amazed that Fraser would have the audacity to take such action. She grinned and palmed a handful of snow in her mitt. "You asked for it!" Fraser dodged her fist attack then took cover behind the large tree beside the Consulate. Her next attempt hit the tree dead center as he gathered his weapons, the war was on.

Ray pulled up to the Canadian Consulate and exited his GTO. He stared in surprise and amusement at the two snow covered figures that were throwing snowballs at each other, as he approached them. He had never seen Fraser act so unruly, it made the Mountie more Human in his eyes.

"All that snow ain't get in my car." He stated grinning as the pair paused in mid strike. They glanced at each other, then suddenly Ray was spitting out the snow that landed square in his face. "Hey!" He grabbed up a handful of snow and the fight continued. They were all covered in snow and breathing hard from the cold and laughter in a matter of moments. Fraser noticed Inspector Thatcher getting out of her car and ran over to her, stepping close to her side to intercept the snowball that Kowalski had thrown by catching it easily in his palm and tossing it back, as he turned to her.

"Good evening Inspector." He greeted smiling as Thatcher looked him up and down. She'd never seen anything cling to the Mountie, much less snow, yet here he was almost covered in it. He seemed to have a magnetic force that prevented anything from getting close to him, especially women she thought wryly, yet here he stood, his usually perfect dark hair glistened almost magically from the snow it had captured. Thatcher had never seen him more appealing then the way he was now.

"Constable." She returned coolly, trying to put just a touch of disapproval in her voice. He instantly picked up on it and his smile faded as he quickly began brushing the snow off of him. The pair behind them had caught his reaction and Kowalski's eyes narrowed on her.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Sir?" inquired Fraser, having amazingly disbursed the majority of the snow in a matter of seconds, revealing damp blue jeans and his leather jacket underneath. His guard is back up, thought Thatcher bemused, the snow is being repelled.

"I just came by to pick up some files, Fraser." She informed evenly. "Please continue as you were." She started up the steps of the consulate, expecting Fraser to return to his friends, but instead he was suddenly in front of her, as they went up the stairs, to holding the front door open. She nodded and went inside, Fraser followed. "I don't require your assistance, Fraser. You may go." Fraser stood there for a moment, dispersing his weight from one foot to the other, as though deciding whether or not to speak. "What is it Constable?"

"I...if it isn't too much trouble, Sir." He began quietly. "I...would you mind waiting here for a moment I need to...I have something for you." Her eyebrows shot up into her forehead and she stared at hi surprised. What could he possibly...then she hid a smile. He always bought her a Christmas gift, why hadn't she thought of it earlier? Of course he gave one to everyone he knew, she didn't take it personally, it was just the sort of man he was.

"Ver well, Fraser." She agreed heading into her office. "If you're quick I'll wait in my office." He nodded and headed for his own office. She retrieved the files she wanted and put them in her briefcase. She had wanted something to do over the next two days so she decided going over some old case files would be enough to keep her occupied. She found herself missing the company of Robin and Fraser when she sat alone in her apartment and needed something to keep her from thinking too much. A knock at her door prepared her for Fraser's arrival and she bade him enter. He walked over to her and handed her the brightly colored package.

"Merry Christmas, Sir." He offered with a small smile. She returned the smile briefly and accepted the package, wondering what it was. It was too large to be a date book or desk calendar like he had given her in the past and she shook it.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Open it." He instructed and watched her peel back the paper and lift the top to push back the tissue paper.

"Oh My!" she gasped lifting out the red formal silk shawl with beautiful edge fringed embroidery. "Fraser its...its..." she couldn't find the words to tell him. She removed her coat and fitted the shawl about her shoulders, turning to view the effect in her wall mirror.

"I remembered you mentioning how much you liked the one a wife of a German diplomat wore to the ball last January." He explained watching her. "Hers was teal but I thought you would prefer the crimson because..." he paused and smiled at her gently. 'Red suits you." She turned back to him and he thought he saw the hint of tears in her eyes. Immediately he thought he had made a mistake. "If you don't care for it I can..." he started.

"Fraser that ball was almost a year ago." She stated. "How could you remember a passing remark like that?" His total recall had always astounded her on many things but this was just..amazing.

"Because you said it." He replied simply. 

"Do you remember everything I say Constable?" she demanded teasing.

"Yes." He answered truthfully. Thatcher wasn't prepared for his answer and the shock registered in her face. She turned away from him and back to the mirror.

"I had been looking everywhere for one like this, where ever did you did it?" she requested.

"Close by." He replied as he heard Kowalski and his sister enter the consulate. "Permission to speak freely?" she nodded. "Would you care to have dinner with us tomorrow? Mackenzie is cooking a turkey and it will just be here at the consulate, nothing extravagant. Ray will be here as well." When she didn't reply right away he assumed he'd made a mistake again. "Of course if you have plans I..."

"I don't have any plans, Fraser." She admitted finally looking at him. "I just don't want to intrude on your Christmas..."

"You won't." he assured quickly. "It's...." he paused and tried to force the words that would explain his actions, but fear of further rejection formed a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow.

"What Fraser means ta say." Continued Kowalski as he and Mackenzie entering the office. "Is the more the merrier, right Frase?" Fraser shot him a grateful look then turned his attention back to Thatcher.

"Yes." He allowed quietly. Please, please come he urged silently. Please say yes.

"It would certainly make me feel better to have another woman around Margaret." Remarked Mackenzie grinning. Thatcher nodded.

"All right." She agreed finally and Fraser released the breath he had been holding, as the hall phone began ringing.

Excuse me please." He offered politely as he left to answer it. Mackenzie ran her hand over the soft material of Thatcher's shawl.

"It's beautiful." She remarked causing the inspector to smile.

"Yes it is." She agreed glancing at the mirror again to view her gift better.

"Ben did a wonderful job on it." Continued Mackenzie. "I was wondering if he'd be able to follow the pattern I'd sent him but he did better than I could have." Thatcher turned to her.

"Pattern?' she repeated confused. "I don't understand." Mackenzie smiled.

"He called me about two months ago," she informed. "Asked if I had a pattern for a specific type shawl. I didn't have one but one of the ladies I live close to did so I sent it up. I didn't realize what he wanted it for or that it would turn out so beautifully." Thatcher felt an odd sensation at the back of her throat that she suspected were tears.

"Fraser made this?" she declared more as a statement than a question. Mackenzie nodded. "Why? Why would he go to so much trouble?"

"That's just the kinda guy he is." Remarked Ray from the corner where he sat. "It's how he shows he cares." Thatcher glanced at the cocky detective as Fraser returned. Ray stood up and held out his hand to Mackenzie. "Are we goin' or stayin?" she smiled at him.

"I need to change." She stated heading out to find her clothes that were in Fraser's office. Kowalski grinned.

"Well, pitter patter." He encouraged, then at Fraser. "You comin'?"

"I'm coming Ray." He returned turning to follow his friend out.

"Fraser." Thatcher called softly, causing him to turn back. He waited patiently for her to speak as she walked over to him. She put her hand against his cheek, then reached up and kissed him. Fraser stared down at her, stunned. "Thank you. Merry Christmas, Ben."

"M...Merry Christmas." He stammered as she retrieved her coat and files.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She promised as he walked her to the front door. "What time?"

"Whenever." He found himself saying, then blushed. "We eat around noon I believe." She nodded and stepped outside as he held the door. She waved and headed down to her car. He waited until she was safe inside, then closed the door and went to change.

 

Christmas dinner at the consulate went very well, even Kowalski dressed accordingly and behaved himself. After dinner, they settled around the large Christmas tree to open presents. Fraser took the responsibility of retrieving the packages from under the tree and delivering them to their owners. A fire was roaring in the fireplace and everyone had a cup of cider to sip from.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Kowalski sitting close to Mackenzie. The object of his desire opted for the roll. Her first gift was from Ma Vecchio, who's insisted she take it even though she'd only met the woman the day before, because she was kin to her beloved Bentino and that made her family. It was a small tin of divinity and fudge treats.

"You'll like that." Fraser assured, having tried Ma Vecchio's sweets before. "Though it is addicting so do be careful." Mackenzie selected a piece of the soft white candy and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes rolled in delight and Fraser smiled. She offered a piece to each of them, then closed the tin. Her second gift was from Ray and it was a snow globe of Chicago and a beautiful wool scarf and matching cap. She smiled at Kowalski gratefully.

"Fraser." They both said simultaneously and Thatcher watched the Mountie turn over on his other side so his sister could kiss his partner. They informed him he could turn back and Mackenzie continued with her gifts. From Thatcher she received a book of poetry and Fraser's gift to her was the last one to open. It was a medium sized box with a multitude of smaller gifts inside. He suggested she open his later, but she brushed his protests aside and selected the first of the parcels. She peeled back the colorful paper and turned the palm sized, leather book over in her hands curiously. The leather was worn and some of the pages yellowed with age. Kowalski and Thatcher both shot Fraser a startled glance as Mackenzie opened the first page of the tiny diary. She read silently for a moment and tears filled her eyes when she finally met Fraser's intent gaze.

"Dad's journal?" she questioned as a lone tear escaped and traced a delicate path down her pale cheek. "B..But this is yours..."

"That one deals with the time he..." Fraser lowered his eyes for a moment. "When he met your mother. I thought you would like to have it." He indicated the next parcel, as though sensing she was close to an emotional display toward him. "Open that one." Mackenzie wiped her cheek and gently placed the journal back in its paper next to her, then retrieved the square box Fraser pointed to. With a trembling hand she pulled off the ribbon and pushed back the paper. It was a framed picture of Robert Fraser in his dress uniform and her mother, attached to the frame was one of his medals.

"Oh Ben." She almost sobbed hugging the picture to her chest. "Where did you find it?" Fraser smiled slightly and glanced over her shoulder where Robert Fraser stood solemnly behind them. His father also looked on the verge of tears. Then Robert Fraser nodded and disappeared, not wanting to intrude on such a special moment between his two children.

"I had help." He replied. Mackenzie set the picture down and moved over to her brother, pulling him into a grateful and loving embrace. Thatcher brushed a tear away and she noticed Kowalski was sniffing and clearing his throat suspiciously. When Mackenzie pulled back Fraser was smiling and his blue eyes were shining with the love he couldn't outwardly show her.

"Pitter Patter." interrupted Kowalski, breaking the emotional tension and indicating Mackenzie's remaining unopened gifts. "Let's get at'er." She smiled and settled back down next to him. The last two presents were a dream catcher that Fraser had made for her and a book on cross stitching that she had shown interest in when she first arrived.

"Who's next." She sighed, thanking Fraser again for her gifts and laying her head on Ray's shoulder contentedly.

"Ray?" suggested Fraser. His partner shrugged and began to tear into his packages. He received a tin of homemade cookies from Ma Vecchio and a bottle of her gazpacho sauce, which she knew he liked. A certificate for free detailing on the GTO from Franchesca, and three new CD's from Fraser for his collection.

"Thanks Fraser." He offered grinning, inspecting them. "I don't have these ones."

"You're welcome Ray." Replied Fraser, secretly pleased he'd made the right selections. His partner's choice in music was quite eclectic and he'd had to ask for help from the sales clerk to figure what ones Ray would appreciate. Mackenzie poked him indicating his last package.

"That one mine." She informed. "Open it." Kowalski put his CD's down and picked up the gift.

"I was savin' the best fer last." He teased pulling apart the paper an opening the box. He pulled out a handmade leather vest with his name stitched on the front pocket. He immediately put it on over his dress shirt and smiled at her. "I love it." He stated glancing at Fraser.

"Just kiss her for god's sake!" he sighed good naturally. "I'm tired of turning around." Mackenzie laughed as Kowalski dropped a quick kiss on her lips. She knew he wouldn't do more than that with Fraser watching, regardless of what her brother said, he was too much of a gentleman.

"You're turn, Margaret." She informed. Thatcher shook her head and indicated the shawl that covered her shoulders over her pale green blouse.

"I already have mine." She stated with a smile as Fraser placed two more packages beside her.

"Apparently not." He observed quietly. She exchanged a glance with each of them then picked up one of the packages. It was a beautiful rose pin with her name engraved on the stem. She smiled at Mackenzie surprised at the gift.

"Thank you." Was all she could offer. The fact that this woman, whom she treated so horribly the last time she was here would be so thoughtful caused Thatcher to feel overwhelmed and slightly ashamed. Mackenzie King was most definitely a Fraser, she determined silent.

"I'm glad you like it." Replied Mackenzie. "Ben told me you liked roses and jewelry."

Thatcher allowed her gaze to drift toward Fraser, who had risen to his feet to attend the fire. The soft lighting of the room and the twinkling lights of the tree traced a musical pattern across the soft white fabric of his dress shirt and she watched the smooth lines of his fitted slacks move with him as he bent to add another log to the fire, hinting at the hard muscle beneath. 

Damn he looked almost editable tonight, she had thought so the moment she'd arrived in her simple green tailored slacks and blouse. She wore the shawl to enforce how much she loved it, hoping he would understand how much the gift meant to her. Her thoughts drifted back to the evening he'd spent at her apartment and shame flooded her for attempting to seducing him under the guise of sleep. He deserved better than that, deserved better than her. 

"Yer turn Fraser." Announced Kowalski as the Mountie settled back on the floor. Fraser began to open his gifts. A package of sweets from Ma Vecchio and some of her special jam, a handsome blue dress shirt from Franchesca, a first edition of Robert Frost poems from Thatcher and a handmade leather vest from Mackenzie, with matching gloves; his first name stitched on front.

"Thank you Mac." He smiled as Ray showed off his vest.

"Hey Fraser, now we're twins." He grinned wickedly and Fraser laughed, really laughed not like the polite chuckle he sometimes allowed himself, but the kind of genuine laughter Thatcher had heard when she happened upon their snowball fight. 

"Are you sure you want to be twins with a freak?" teased Fraser.

"Sure." Agreed Kowalski, "We'll just have to spike yer hair a bit and get ya some real clothes and we'll be set." Mackenzie and Thatcher shuddered, trying to picture Fraser dressed like Ray, and they all burst out laughing. Although it was a good look for Ray, on Fraser it just wouldn't work. Diefenbaker wined from next to Fraser and Mackenzie pushed two packaged toward the wolf. 

"Alright, " Fraser sighed opening the packages as the wolf watched expectantly. "You really aren't a human though, despite your protests to the contrary." One was a new woven blanket from Mackenzie, the second, a new food bowl from Ray. Fraser had already given Diefenbaker his gift, which was a handsome new collar that the wolf now wore. Diefenbaker barked his approval and pulled his blanket over by the fire to curl up on. Fraser shook his head in disgust.

"I'm going to go put away the leftovers." Decided Mackenzie rising to her feet as the others rose as well.

"I'll help." Offered Fraser, only to have his sister wave him off.

"Ray can help." She stated indicating the detective follow her.

"How'd I get roped fer kitchen duty?' he protested as she caught him by the collar.

"You helped eat it you help clean it." She informed pulling him along behind her. Fraser grinned, knowing his partner hated doing dishes, but doubted he'd mind very much since he'd be helping Mackenzie. Fraser began to pick up the discarded wrappings from the floor and carried them over to the fire, as Thatcher neatly placed the opened gifts back under the tree.

"Thank you for the book." He offered so quietly that it took her a moment to realize he was addressing her. She shrugged, feeling it was inadequate compared to the gift he'd given her.

"It isn't nearly as nice as my shawl." She returned politely. Fraser turned back to face her.

"I think it was." He assured. "I'll get many hours of enjoyment from it." Thatcher stared past him to the fire, watching the flames dance hypnotically before her.

"As many hours as you put in making my gift?" she asked quietly and knew without looking at him that Fraser was blushing. "Your sister told me that you asked her for the pattern." Fraser remained silent and she continued to stare at the fire, knowing that if she allowed herself a glance his way she'd loose her courage. "Why did you go to such trouble, Ben?" When he still didn't respond she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Because I thought you would like it." He replied simply, his normally bright eyes shadowed beneath a veil the deepest blue Thatcher had ever seen.

"Why should it matter so much?' she insisted, unable to look away now or to stop the questions that had haunted her for the last twenty-four hours. Fraser lowered his eyes, his long thick lashed hiding the truth she searched for in his eyes. When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were the normal calming blue of textured ice.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that." He apologized gently. Thatcher tried to keep her temper in check. He was keeping things from her again and she hated him for it.

"Why?" she demanded.

"It wouldn't be appropriate." He assured calmly. Thatcher quelled the sensation to reach up and strangle him.

"I order you to tell me constable." She persisted, falling back into her roll as his superior officer, which seemed the only way to get him to respond sometimes.

"I'm sorry." He refused subdued. She drew closer to him and removed the shawl to hold it out to him.

"Then take it back." She commanded. She saw a flicker of pain in his eyes for the briefest moment. "If you won't tell me why you can have it." Fraser made no move to take it from her.

"It's your Christmas gift." He protested. "Please don't.."

"Then tell me." She ordered. "What are you afraid of?" Fraser caressed his right eyebrow nervously. He was afraid of the rejection he knew would come after he proclaimed his feelings for her, just as it always did. He was afraid of making her uncomfortable, or worse have her end up hating him.

"Why did you give me a book of poetry?' he returned, trying to make her realize that questioning the reason for a gift was not only impolite but just plain silly.

"I knew you liked to read," she explained somewhat startled by his question, "So I went to a book store and asked the clerk what would make a good gift for someone who was as methodological in their reading as you were. He said I couldn't go wrong with Robert Frost."

"But it's a first edition." Reminded Fraser.

"I knew you would appreciate it more." She claimed, frustrated. "You do don't you?"

"Yes, of course." he reassured quickly. "But I...I 'm just trying to point out that...why should it matter why I gave you the shawl? I thought you would enjoy such a gift so when I couldn't find one anywhere I made one." He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "That is just the way I am. I'm sorry if it offends or upsets you." Thatcher tried to swallow her anger.

"I..of course I'm not offended Fraser." She managed pulling the shawl to her chest. "I just want to understand...No one's ever made something for me before and I..." she shook her head and looked away.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He offered quietly, catching her chin and turning her gaze back to his. "I wanted you to have a nice Christmas." She stared up at him and saw the depth of emotion once again shining in his eyes. She knew, without him saying it, she knew he cared for her deeply and unconditionally. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips closer. Fraser stared at her questionably, then after seeing the approval in her eyes, he allowed his arms to slide around her move her close to him. At first he thought she would just allow a simple embrace, but when she reached up and kissed him his body started in shock. Her mouth was warm and sweet and she tasted of candied apples. She leaned closer and opened her mouth to him, inviting him inside, and Fraser allowed a soft sigh to escape before he deepened the kiss. Thatcher wound her fingers through his hair, reveling in the taste and feel of him. For so long she'd wanted this, and she suspected from his reaction that Fraser had wanted it as much. Pressed against him she felt the hard muscles of his torso flex as he moved, discovered the strength of his arousal and the rocketing sensations that her discovery uncovered within her. She felt his large, strong hands in her hair and making slow circles across her back. She reached one hand down and ran it over his ribcage, down along his thigh and behind to his bottom. She felt his surprised intake of breath as she squeezed him suggestively. Suddenly he raised his head and almost stumbled backwards. They stared at each other silently, as though each trying to come to terms with what just happened. His hair was in a tousled from the path of her fingers and both their lips were pink and slightly swollen. Unchecked desire gleamed in his eyes and he was curling and uncurling his fists by his side. She smiled and grasped his hands, entwining her fingers with his.

"Merry Christmas, Fraser." She whispered seductively. "How'd you like your Christmas Goose?" Fraser swallowed and smiled.

"Very much." He managed softly. "I may request seconds." She laughed and pulled him with her across the ballroom.

"Let's go help in the kitchen." He followed, her hand still wrapped in his, and wondered what this New Year would bring. Already he'd received two things he had wished for, a family of his own and a kiss from the woman he loved, it could only get better.

 

 

THE END?

 

 


End file.
